
Human Chain Poems
Reviews

As ever, it’s of hands, eels, parents, wakes, digging, kennings, regret, the RUC, Cuchulain, and Caesar. Fully half are in memoriams. You have to be brave or famous to write this plainly. Plainness can be mistaken for absence of technique – ‘here, I could do that’ – but here it is very, very obvious that I could not. Feel your tongue: It’s winter at the seaside where they’ve gone For the wedding meal. And I am at the table, Uninvited, ineluctable. A skirl of gulls. A smell of cooking fish. Plump dormant silver. Stranded silence. Tears. Their bibbed waitress unlids a clinking dish. And leaves them to it, under chandeliers. And to all the anniversaries of this They are not ever going to observe Or mention even in the years to come. And now the man who drove them here will drive Them back, and by evening we’ll be home. Best are ‘A Herbal’, ‘Chanson d’Aventure’, ‘Miracle’, ‘Loughanure’, and ‘Route 110’, an odyssey about buying a second-hand copy of the Aeneid and then trying to go home.

I feel bad because I loved the cure at Troy, but I haven’t enjoyed the rest of Seamus Heaneys work as much!



Highlights

So that his eyes leave mine and I know
The pain of loss before I know the term.